


Sticky Fingers

by MoriartyMastermind



Series: Kleptomania [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Barry plans heists with Len while he's still the Flash, M/M, Morally Gray Barry Allen, Role Reversal, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-08-03 06:08:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16320584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoriartyMastermind/pseuds/MoriartyMastermind
Summary: Barry Allen. The pinnacle of good, the light at the end of the tunnel,the Flash... has sticky fingers._This is a continuation of Greedy. A much longer. More detailed continuation.





	1. Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the next installment of Kleptomania! Took me long enough to get out. Much of this chapter is exposition, but I plan on picking things up a hell of a lot with plot and shit.

Len knew a lot about drugs. 

Not necessarily because he’s ever taken them, though he has dabbled in the past… But because he knows what addiction feels like. He understands the thrill of swiping a wallet and the high of a heist. He understands the build-up, the want that grows deep within a person- something that’s easy to ignore at first, maybe just a bit of an irritant, but soon becomes an all consuming _need_.

And Len is a big enough man to admit (to himself, but no one else) that he’s addicted to one Scarlet Speedster, and that his need has grown immense over the past several weeks. Though to be clear: it’s not the Flash, but Barry Allen himself - the CSI, the hero - who was addictive.

His actions, his motives, his smiles, and that damn red leather suit. The Flash was so much more than what he seemed and Len was fucking _delighted_.

Who knew Barry was a fan of the shiny things? Len pondered as he saw Barry greedily fill his bag with jewels, cowl down and cheeks tinged with scarlet.

At first, Len was disappointed to learn that simple CSI Barry Allen was the Flash. It seemed like a letdown, like someone wrote a thrilling book and then ripped out the last page. Or finding out that your favorite childhood star grew up to be a grocery bagger. 

…But once Len did his research things became a little more interesting, he learned about Barry’s trauma. His mother killed in front of him, his father going to prison, how a young boy was made out to be crazy and then the same detective who put his father in prison bringing him in. 

By all accounts, it made sense for Barry to a petty thief as a teenager.

And yet his record was squeaky clean when Len last checked, he wasn't sure if it was because of Detective West or because Barry was just that good. Len hoped for the latter, but wouldn’t rule out the former.

When Len’s contacts first started coming to him, whispering rumors about the Flash’s lesser-than-good habits, he didn’t believe it. Simply because Barry Allen appeared to be the pinnacle of Good and Self-Righteousness. To Len, it was as if the man had written down a manual on the Moral Code of a Hero and just went from there. In no world had Len imagined that thievery would fit into that equation. He had never been happier to be proved wrong. 

The first whisper came a week beforehand. 

“I’ve got dirt on the Flash,” the man in front of him was short and skinny. He had bags under his eyes, his hands were shaky and his arms were far too long for his small frame. Len had never met him before, but he put word out that anybody who had any information on the Flash was to come to Captain Cold first. Consequences would be in order for those who didn’t. 

It was because he needed information, he told himself, but Lisa had accused him of doing it to protect the Scarlet Speedster. Either way, it was to his advantage that he had any information first, and could stop the flow of rumor if need be. He took pleasure in running things, he’d always had leadership qualities… maybe he could have been a politician in another lifetime (or perhaps another Earth?). A legal sort of criminal.

“What kind of dirt?” He asked the man. Whose name was Pete or Paul, Len wasn’t paying attention when he introduced himself, instead he had opted to reflect on the man’s gangly arms (unimportant things often found root in the forefront of his mind). 

“Now I know this sounds crazy, but Flash has been stealing shit from people. He stole my wallet!” Len raised a slow eyebrow at the man, lifted his gun just slightly, but enough for the man to step back a couple of steps. “I’m honest, man! Mr. Cold, sir. _Fuck_ , I had at least three gift cards in there.”

“And who’s to say that you didn’t just drop your wallet on the way to the police station? Flash goes pretty fast, it would make sense for you to lose some things along the way,” He put the gun back down. Len knew from experience the guy wasn’t lying, but he couldn’t rule out the possibility of stupidity. 

“I thought so too,” Paul/Pete explained. “But…Well, me and my buddy both got our wallets stolen. So I asked around and apparently a lot of people have been having the same problem. _All_ when they’re being booked by the Flash.”

Len frowned. Stealing? The Flash? It didn’t add up, and made absolutely no sense.

But a small memory was brought to the forefront of his mind, a young kid who tried to steal his wallet nearly ten years ago - a kid who bore a striking resemblance to one Barry Allen.

It was a small piece, easily something his mind had chosen to find connection when there was none there, among a long list of various insignificant encounters in lifetime… But Len’s mind worked like a puzzle, and when he had all the pieces (thanks to a remarkably good memory) it only took a slight push to put the picture together.

It’s times like those Len wondered why he ever bothered to kidnap Cisco and his brother to get the Flash’s identity. The nine-month coma, the lightning, the sudden appearance of the Flash post-coma.It should have been easy enough to figure out on his own. But Len had a history of impatience for things he was interested in. 

He kept silent for too long, and he could tell because P was nervously bouncing from foot to foot and looked like he was about to run away. 

Len made another show of raising his gun, “Don’t tell anyone else about this or I’ll ice your legs off, understand?”

The man nodded vigorously and went away quickly.

And so Len started his planning.

A plan that paid off immensely… It took a considerable about of self-control to hold back from grinning ear to ear as he took in the sight of Barry Allen stealing things in front of him. Barry. Fucking. Allen. _Stealing_ things. Len nearly swooned. 

He slowly walked toward Barry, who was completely oblivious to his oncoming approach (which Len would berate Barry about if he had any mind to give the kid advice about being _aware_ of his surroundings.) 

Len reached out and gripped Barry’s wrist- “Don’t get greedy, kid,” He echoed the words he said so long ago, at who he was certain at this point was the same boy.

Barry looked up, startled at him, his entire face frozen for a moment. Len almost expected Barry to run away, there was a crackle of electricity within the kid’s eyes.

“Fuck.”

“Are you offering?” Len let himself have the jibe and let go of Barry’s wrist. This was too fun. “I have to admit, I didn’t believe it when my contacts started telling me the Flash was swiping wallets… then again, there was a distant memory and I never forget a face.”

“I don’t uh-” Barry dropped the bag. “I’m not. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”.

“I’m not gonna rat you, Scarlet.” Len took a few steps around Barry. Took his time to look the man up and down, appreciating the view. “In fact, I think it’s a little appealing that Central City’s hero is just a petty thief.”

“You…you set this up?” Barry seemed so affronted. Of _course_ Len set this up, he was a thief, a scoundrel and he never missed an opportunity when one presented itself. 

“I know you can’t resist a good heist,” Len explained. “Figured I’d see if you wanted to be on the other end of it. The _real_ expensive stuff are the paintings…I’m probably going to take a few.”

“You want me to be an accomplice to your heist?” Barry asked. He was also blushing, and how Len loved that blush. Scarlet was an apt nickname.

“I’m actually asking if I can be an accomplice to _your_ heist,” Len lets Barry have it. Lets the offer linger. “I see you like the shiny stuff. Just like my sister.”

There was a pause, Len still half-expected Barry to run away. 

“Are any of your other Rogues here?” Barry said with a note of consideration in his tone.

Len startled for a moment, he didn’t really think Barry would agree to anything. _If_ anything, he had thought this was the perfect time to get good blackmail material for future encounters. He had never been so happy to be proven wrong, “Of course not.”

“I _did_ like the abstract painting on the way in.”

It was then Len’s mind began to run, thinking of the possibilities, how much _dirt_ he can get on the Flash. And a larger plan begins to form in his mind. He let his face rest into a genuine smile. 

“I have a van out back,” Len used his thumb to point behind him. “I’ll get it ready, feel free to take as much as you want. You’ve already got gloves so there’s no need to wipe down.”

Len watched as Barry’s face morphed into something different, his pupils dilated, skin flushed. If Len was a weaker man he would’ve thrown himself at Barry right then and there, but he was not a weaker man.

“Are we really doing this?” Barry asked. 

Barry asked like they were about to fall into bed together, and in a sort of way it _was_ a deal with the devil. Len suppressed a chuckle. 

“Unless you have any qualms?”

“I haven’t left ay fingerprints, and likely haven’t left any hair or fibers,” Barry looked down at his feet. “My suit doesn’t leave impressions… Whoever owns the place probably won’t call for a CSI, just an average cop, but I’ll do an inward spiral search anyway.”

Len nearly forgot that Barry was a CSI. 

Barry frowned and furrowed his brow, “There will be trace evidence left from your cold gun.”

“I have no problem with that,” he didn’t. Sure, Captain Cold was connected to the cold gun, there was no doubt about it. Currently, he’s a wanted man for his father’s murder, several robberies (unproven, but still) and a prison escape. What’s one more check on his record? 

He remained pissed his wiped record went to waste, though. 

* * *

The buzz in Barry’s fingers lingered all the way up through his spine, filled his head, and gave him a comfortable high. He gripped edge of the sink, took three steadying breaths, then looked at himself in the mirror. He still had the Flash outfit on, but his cowl was ripped back and exposed the light blush on his cheeks. Hair still mussed up.

His pupils were blown out, and he idly let himself wonder why it looked like he just took drugs (and if he were just a bit more seedy, why it looked like he just had sex). Why it _felt_ like he just took drugs… In a way, he supposed he did.

“What the did you just get yourself into, Barry?” He asked his reflection.

“I won’t snitch,” Cold’s voice piped up from behind him. Barry flinched just a bit, he hadn’t expected Snart to come in. He knew it was a bad idea to go back to his own apartment. Really, he could have protested a bit more when Captain Cold slipped inside behind him and commented on his ‘abysmal sense of decoration’.

Then again, he was Leonard Snart. He went into every situation like he owned the joint, or was about to steal something in the joint.

“I can’t do this again, Snart,” Barry idly wondered whether he could call his previous therapist at a time like this. Would client privilege mean he could tell them he was the Flash? Prove it to them? He liked lifting criminal’s wallets so-fucking-what, but he just stole millions of dollars worth of antique items.

_He_ stole them. The _Flash_ was a part of a heist. 

“Why? Go against your sensibilities?”

“Why are you still here?” Barry asked Snart’s reflection, he couldn’t bring himself to actually turn around. “You should have left the moment I sped back here with the jewels. In fact, you shouldn’t have even led me to do this in the first place.”

“For the first time, in what I bet is a long time, you actually let yourself have a bit of fun,” Snart carried on and came closer, just behind Barry. “Whose to say we can’t have more fun? Heists aren’t my only way to pass the time.”

Barry could let himself wonder about the statement. Let himself think just a bit too hard about what ‘fun’ meant to Snart. 

Barry could admit that Cold was attractive. He had those damned icy (shut up) blue eyes, and long legs, and Barry has been bisexual for a hell of a long time but hadn’t acted on it since college…And why is he thinking about this again? Who says Snart means what Barry think he means, this can’t- this isn’t a proposition. Is Snart even gay?

“Stop messing with me, Snart.”

Snart was practically on his back now…Barry saw Cold put his hands on Barry’s shoulders and flip him around so they were facing each other. They were both perfectly matched in height, but Snart appeared so much taller, felt taller, with all his easy-confidence and bravado.

“Why would I be messing with you?” Cold raised an eyebrow, his hands resting on Barry’s shoulders, drawl easing back into his tone. Barry realized his suspicions were right.

“I don’t-” Barry sighed and grit his teeth. Snart was too close to him, the high of the heist was wearing off, and guilt was creeping back into his gut. He felt like throwing up. “I’m not having sex with you and I want you out of my apartment.” He stepped away, took Snart’s hands off him and rushedto the open bathroom door. “We can go back to our game…or whatever we were doing, but none of this is happening again.”

“Who said anything about sex, I was just thinking about a rousing game of pool.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Barry couldn’t hold himself back from smiling, just a bit, and what the fuck was wrong with him? He was supposed to be angry, he feels guilty but he’s still bantering ( _flirting_ , a part of his brain whispers.)

“Your loss,” Snart said as he made his way out passed Barry.

Barry was completely, and utterly fucked…And not in the fun way. 

The next few days were quiet. Too quiet. Barry couldn’t help but feel like any second Caitlin, Cisco, Iris, or even worse… Joe. One of them would just come up behind him and tell them they knew what he did. They knew exactly what he wanted, what he thought.

“Hey man, you’ve been glaring at the wall for the past three minutes,” Cisco waved a twizzler in front of his face. “Dude. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Barry lied. He took a deep breath. “Anything today?”

“Nope, real quiet for a week day but it’s not like there has to be crime all hours of the day,” Cisco shrugged. “By the way your phone has been buzzing.”

Barry frowned, looked at his phone perched on the table. He grabbed it. Six texts.

**_Iris:_ ** _Hey Barry, are you busy today? The movies are half off. We haven’t done anything as friends for a while._

**_Iris:_ ** _Just texted Cisco. He says you’re on Flash duty. Let me know if you have any time afterwards. I’m off today._

Iris and him have barely interacted since the night went back in time. After his father died, after nearly kissing on the steps of Joe’s house. Things had been awkward between them. He ultimately made the choice to stay, not save his mother no matter how much he wanted to. He mentioned what he had planned to do to Iris and she didn’t react well to say the least. 

There was also a text from Joe.

**_Joe:_ ** _I’m making dinner tonight, if you want to join us. Wally and Iris will be there._

Everybody wanted to get back in contact with him, huh? Sure, he’d been a little withdrawn. He felt guilty. 

And three missed texts from an unknown number. 

**_Unknown:_ ** _Bored._

**_Unknown:_ ** _Join me for dinner._

**_Unknown:_ ** _Ignoring me?_

Barry looked at the number, it didn’t look familiar. He texted back.

**_Barry:_ ** _I think you have the wrong number._

**_Unknown:_ ** _I doubt it, Scarlet._

Scarlet. There was only one person who called him that.

**_Barry:_ ** _I’m not joining you for dinner._

**_Unknown:_ ** _Why not?_

**_Barry:_ ** _I think you can answer that question on your own._

Barry stared at his phone like it had personally affronted him.

**_Barry:_ ** _And how did you get my number?_

**_Unknown:_ ** _Easy enough. You left your phone outside the bathroom when you were freshening up after our salacious activities._

**_Barry:_ ** _Why do you have to make everything into an innuendo?_

“Damn Barry if you keep typing that hard you’re going to break your phone,” Cisco raised an eyebrow. “Who’s got you so excited? Iris?”

“Not Iris. No one important,” Barry still stared at his phone. “Hey Cisco I’m gonna stop with Flash duties for the day, but feel free to call me if anything important comes up.”

“No problem. Have fun with whoever you’re texting.”

“I’m not having fun with anyone!” Barry yelled as he walked out of the cortex.

“Whatever you say!” Cisco yelled back.

**_Unknown:_ ** _Getting hot and bothered?_

**_Barry:_ ** _I swear to god, Cold. I will block your number._

**_Unknown:_** _I_ _have no ulterior motives. I have nothing better to do today and I’d be interested in dinner. What’s so bad about that?_

Barry would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted. Very tempted, an unhealthy amount of tempt, in fact. 

**_Barry:_ ** _Like a date?_

**_Unknown:_ ** _Well, we’ve already been on one date. Why not go for another one._

**_Barry:_ ** _We haven’t been on a date. That wasn’t a date._

**_Unknown:_ ** _We spent time together. We had fun. We went to yours after. I’d say that was definitely a date in my book, no matter how you spin it._

**_Barry:_ ** _We haven’t been on any dates._

**_Unknown:_ ** _I’m going to be at the Motorcar Diner at five. Join me or don’t._

Barry gave Snart a contact name and then didn’t reply. He won’t be going to the Motorcar. He definitely won’t. Absolutely not. Maybe he’ll even go to dinner at Joe’s house, that way he has something to do.

Maybe he’ll actually call Iris. 

Barry flashed to Joe’s house, after his father died he moved out as soon as possible, but he still found comfort in his old room. His new apartment lacked his personal touch, and he still had much of his clothes stashed away in his old closet. Moving out should be quicker as the Flash, but avoiding responsibilities was easier. Especially after the incident. With Snart. The Stealing Incident.

That’s a dumbass name.

He went to his old room and threw himself on his bed. Then his phone rang. Barry looked at the caller ID, expecting Snart, but it was Iris. He hesitated for a moment before picking up, anything was better then continuing to text Snart.

“Hey Iris,” Barry tried to sound excited, but it came out bitter.

_“Hi Barry. I heard from Cisco you were done with Flash duty today. Want to join me for that movie? Or maybe just have lunch?”_

Barry’s stomach growled at that exact moment, “We can have lunch.”

Barry could practically hear the grin in Iris’ voice when she spoke again, _“Great! I’m already at Jitters. Could you meet me now?”_

Barry had to face her. Had to tell her that they wouldn’t work, that they couldn’t work... Barry stopped himself just before he kissed her because he realized she was the only choice for him for years. He had never thought about loving anyone else. He had never entertained a relationship with anyone else.

Well, until now. But that was unhealthy, those thoughts he had now. Unhealthy and unrealistic no matter how much it seemed like it might work. 

“Sure Iris, meet you in thirty seconds,” Barry hung up and flashed to Jitters. He walked in and saw Iris sitting at a table, smiling, beautiful as always. But his heart didn’t skip a beat like it had before his father died, he didn’t hold the same longing. 

“How have you been, Barry?” she asked as he sat down.

“I’ve been fine.”

“I ordered you a Flash with extra whip, and four of those Italian paninis you like,” Iris already had a mug in her hands. She looked down at it, pursed her lips and then looked back up at Barry. “You know why I want to talk right?”

“I know,” Barry said. He wished he had a mug in his hands too. Something to just fumble around with so he didn’t have his hands twitching on the table like an anxious drug addict. He already felt like a drug addict. He glanced behind Iris, noticed that the man sitting behind her had his wallet hanging out of his pants.

“Are you paying attention, Barry?” Iris didn’t sound exasperated. 

He snapped his eyes back to her. Her expression was strained, “Yeah.”

“We need to talk about us. You’re my best friend, Barry.”

“You’re my best friend too.”

“Barry I told you, before everything happened, before your father,” she stopped. Looked sad. “I told you that I wanted a future with you, that I thought we might be meant to be together. I thought you wanted that too, I thought we could try.”

Barry nodded. Didn’t respond.

“But then that night on the steps, I thought we were going to… I thought we were going to kiss and then you stopped yourself. And you just ran away. I felt hurt and abandoned,” she stopped when the waitress walked by and set the food down at their table, then continued. “Then you came back later that night, you were broken. You seemed different. And I know that your dad died but you looked at me like I was different, like everything was different.”

“I saw my mother die again, Iris. That does something to a person.”

“And you were going to stop it and throw everything away? Throw away the one thing you said you wanted? You said you were in love with me and I believed you, but the moment it seemed like it would become a reality your first reaction was to get rid of it.”

“I didn’t do it,” Barry snapped. 

“I know you didn’t,” Iris reached out and grabbed Barry’s hand. “I know you didn’t and it was completely uncalled for me to get so angry at you for something that you didn’t do. But it made me realize that I don’t want to be together, Barry, not in the way you want to be.”

“I don’t want to be together that way anymore either, Iris.”

Iris eyes widened, “You don’t?”

“No. I don't. I thought I did, but you were the only option I could see for a long time. The only thing that seemed real to me, and when I got the chance. It didn’t feel… right. It felt wrong. Like you being my best friend was all I needed. I realized I wasn’t in love with you, even though I do love you.”

“I - I didn’t expect you to say that,” the tension in Iris’ shoulders eased out of her and she shook her head. Chuckled. “We’re ridiculous.”

“I know,” Barry smirked. Looked behind Iris again, staring at the man behind her. He was leering at the waitresses, being rude. “Hey, before I eat all these paninis I’m going to wash my hands.”

“Go ahead.”

Barry stood up, and without using his speed, he brushed past the man behind Iris, taking the wallet and slipping it into his jacket pocket. A rush of adrenaline went through him and he felt just a bit less stressed then he had before.

A stolen wallet, a good conversation with Iris. Maybe things would shape up better than he thought. 

When he went back to the table Iris was holding his phone.

Oh no.

“Who’s Blue?”

“Uhhh…” Barry stammered. “Nobody important. Just somebody I met a little while ago.”

She set down his phone, “Sorry for snooping but your phone kept buzzing, and well- I am a journalist.” 

Barry took it from the table and glanced at the texts.

**_Blue:_ ** _Are you coming to dinner?_

**_Blue:_ ** _I’ll cover it._

**_Blue:_ ** _You have four hours to decide._

**_Blue:_ ** _Maybe we can have more fun this time._

“So you’ve moved on fast. Tell me about her,” Iris didn’t look jealous. Barry was relieved that she just looked excited. “Did you go on a date already? How was it?”

“We didn’t go on a date.”

“She sounds pretty invested.”

“He's not invested, he’s just irritating.” 

“He?” Iris eyes widened. “Barry! Is this why you didn’t tell me? You haven’t been with a guy since college!” 

“We haven’t done anything! I told you!” Barry felt his cheeks heat up.

“But you want to do something.”

“I don’t want to do anything!” Barry snatched a panini and started scarfing it down to stop himself from saying anything he would regret. 

“Liar. Oh my god, I’m so excited. I can help you get ready for your dinner tonight. What time is it?” Iris was grinning. She stole one of his paninis and took a bite.

“I’m not going. Joe invited me to dinner with you guys tonight.”

“Who cares about what my dad wants you to do? You can have dinner with us any other night. But the last time you dated was with… Who? Patty Spivot? And this guy seems sweet.”

Barry nearly scoffed, he'd have to mentioned to Snart that Iris called him sweet. No, scratch that. He said he wouldn't talk to Snart. 

But Iris insisted. And so the hours passed, she brought him back to Joe’s house and there they were standing before a closet of clothes that should definitely be in his new apartment by now.

Iris was taking out shirts, staring at them, discarded some, kept others, she put an outfit together and gestured to the bed where it was laid out, “Put it on.”

“I am not. I told you I wasn’t going on this date, Iris,” God even he was calling it a date now. What the hell is he getting himself into? He couldn’t exactly tell Iris it was Snart who was inviting him out to dinner. 

“Put it on.”

He put it on, and honestly [he didn’t look so bad](https://www.popsugar.com/celebrity/photo-gallery/41196122/image/41207399/Hot-Pictures-Grant-Gustin). He hadn’t worn a nice outfit in a while. He was wearing dark maroon jeans, a little tight in his opinion, with a white v-neck and a navy blazer. He didn’t even know that he owned this stuff. 

“Finally, something better than a worn out sweater and t-shirt,” Iris told him.

“Hey! I wear a bomber jacket sometimes.”

“And we all thank you for the times you do.”

* * *

“Who have you been texting all goddamn day?” Lisa looked over his shoulder.

“A mark,” Len said casually.

“A mark? What kind of mark?”

“You’ll find out when the time comes,” Len would use his situation to his advantage. Barry obviously found him attractive, and Len had something that Barry wanted - a release.

If he played the situation right, Barry would follow. God, he could make so much from Barry’s powers. Super-speed would be remarkably efficient for a heist, and he was looking forward to the moment that Barry agrees to something.

He wasn’t sure what his ultimate goal would be. If he could get Barry to turn, that would be great, but nearly impossible. He thought longer about how he could use the information to his advantage, he already had the Flash’s identity as blackmail. He could easily throw in the kleptomania in there, as well. Especially if he can get evidence of the Flash’s indiscretions on camera. That would make for a lot of control.

He got up and threw on a leather jacket.

“Where are you going?” Lisa threw himself on the couch he had just got up from. “Lenny I don’t like being left out of the loop.”

“I told you that you’ll know when the time comes. I’m going out. Don’t wait up.”

Lisa let out an exaggerated sigh but didn’t say anything more. She trusted him, but she was constantly suspicious of his actions. A living oxymoron. Lisa would be likely to pry more in the future, but he kept his word and he wanted to keep Barry’s identity safe. Not for Barry, but for his own advantage. Obviously. 

He walked out of their safe house and got on his motorcycle, put on his helmet and took the short ride to the Motorcar Diner. He didn’t bother to check the time, his internal clock was always ticking and he didn’t usually need to check. If Len was right he’d walk into the diner at 4:50 on the dot.

But before he did he saw a car drive up, Barry was in the car with his sister, Iris. Len looked on, she was smiling at him and pushed him out of the car, “Enjoy your date!” she said as she drove away.

And Barry looked absolutely delicious, even if exasperated. The pants he wore tugged at his ass just right, and his the white v-neck was just slightly see through. Enough so that Len could see the outline of Barry’s abs through his shirt. 

Barry’s hair looked good too, like it had been styled. Not the windswept and messy look he usually had from running. It must have stayed in style because his sister drove him.

Len walked into the back entrance of the diner, the owners knew him and didn’t question when he walked through the kitchen and into the main seating area. He took his usual booth and waited.

When Barry walked in, he gave him a sly smile, “I knew you would show. I see you had your sister drive you.”

“She not my sister,” Barry said as he sat down. “And how did you know that? You can’t exactly see outside to the parking lot from here.” Barry twisted around and looked.

“I have my ways.”

“You need to stop texting me.”

“Why?”

“Texting me got me into this mess. Now Iris thinks I’m dating some guy, and she can’t keep a secret from Joe for long. She’s going to want to meet you and then Joe’s going to want to meet you. And even Cisco thinks I’m going out with somebody!” Barry’s voiced raised just enough for other people in the diner to give them odd looks. “Not to mention that the last time we were together I stole something,” he hissed.

“We stole a lot of things,” Len said. “By the way, what have you done with the jewels and paintings?”

Barry sat back, “The items are hot, I can’t exactly go out and resell them yet. I plan on donating the proceeds to a charity I like.”

“Sounds like you’ve done this before,” Len was getting hot just hearing Barry talk like that.

“I know a fence from when I was a teenager, if my bets are right they’d still be in operation and I trust them,” Barry tilted his head. “Well I trust them enough to not stiff me.”

Len stared at Barry for a moment. Hearing the word ‘fence’ out of Barry’s mouth just made him stop, Barry knew his stuff, “How long have you been stealing, Flash?”

Barry’s cheeks turned red, “Since I was a kid, I stopped around the time I became the Flash but recently…”

“The need couldn’t stop itself. It grew," Len answered for him.

“It’s like there was something inside of me that wanted to let go, just do what makes _me_ feel good instead of what makes everyone else feel good for once,” Barry clenched his fists on the table. “You have no idea how much that… what we did made me feel amazing, Snart.” 

“I know the feeling, Barry. You don’t need to hide that from me. I told you that night we came to our agreement,” he echoed the words that played back in his mind perfectly. “The adrenaline. The thrill of the chase, I love this game and I’m very good at it.”

“Why can’t being the Flash be enough for me, then?” Barry asked. Len was surprised he opened up so much since getting here, he must have been keeping this inside for a hell of a long time. “It was enough. Being a hero, having the adrenaline rush of putting the villains away.”

“But being bad is sometimes a lot better, Barry. Like you said it’s doing something for yourself without caring what someone else thinks of you,” Len played with the salt shaker on the table. “And you’ve got a bit of Robin Hood in you, as much as I hate that ridiculous story. You like dishing out justice and you don’t even keep the proceeds.”

Barry shook his head, “It’s not just justice. I _like_ it. It’s not right, stealing isn’t right, Snart.”

“In some instances, you seem to think it might be,” Barry looked like he was about to retaliate but Len held a finger up to Barry’s lips. They were warm. “Don’t interrupt,” he brushed Barry’s lips then took his hand down.

“I have a proposition for you, Barry,” Len said. “Whenever you feel that need inside of you grow, the one that tells you the only thing to make it go away is stealing… Call me. We’ll find a target. And I’ll let you lead the heist. I’ll even take the fall if something goes wrong.”

Barry was blushing a deep red now, his hand up to his lips, “And why would you ever agree to something like that? What do you get out of it?”

“The satisfaction of seeing Barry Allen go bad.”


	2. Vices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry makes his move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very very very sorry for the long wait. But I graduated, and applied to law school, and blah blah blah. Comments keep me going! And I've finally got my ideas for this fic down!

“Tell me what’s going on, guys!” Barry yelled as he fought off a normal, non-powered man who came barreling at him. Barry sped up, and took the time to observe the scene around him. The man’s eyes were crazed and his teeth were bared, and Barry couldn’t exactly fight the man - because his powers were definitely not friendly toward normal humans. But he did need to subdue him. 

They were in a run of the mill office, but luckily someone had duct tape on their desk and duct tape fixes everything. He sped over, took it, grabbed the man and quickly wrapped him on a desk leg in tape. Barry took a deep breath to calm his already erratic heartbeat, everyone else had left the office space. He either sped them out of there or they got out quickly. There was a call about a ‘disturbance’ while was doing his rounds. Barry looked at the disturbance, who was thrashing while taped to the desk. Screaming obscenities. 

_“We don’t know yet, Barry,”_ Caitlin said through his comms. 

Barry looked closely at the man, “Well he’s subdued, and acting insane. Who is this guy? Just an everyday crazy?”

Before, the man was screaming at air, but he now turned his attention to Flash, “I’m not fucking crazy!” Barry didn’t think he was making his case well. “My wife cheated on me! She goddamn cheated on me, and Cheryl… Oh don’t even get me started on Cheryl, she gave me the wrong coffee this morning. Even when I specifically fucking said I don’t like cream,” he punctuated his next words by slamming his head back, “Literally. Every. Single. Time. She brings me my fucking coffee. She’s known me for ten years! Nobody in this office appreciates me…”

Barry just shook his head as the man continued rambling, “You hearing this guys?”

It was Cisco who responded, _“So apparently Mr. Crazy here is a happily married man with three kids. No priors, couple of parking tickets, he’s been working for his company fifteen years. Never been promoted. His name is Jack Fischer,”_ Cisco chuckled at the name. _“All work, no play.”_

Barry smirked. “Makes Jack a dull boy,” then he frowned. “Something must have happened then, anything that made him snap like this? Was Bivolo seen in the area?”

_“No sign of him, the others in the office are speaking to police now,”_ Cisco said. _“We might get something once their statements are taken.”_

“Right,” Barry continued to frown at Fischer, who was still banging his head against the desk. “Hey man, stop it- Fischer you’re going to hurt yourself.”

But Fischer wasn’t listening, just banging his head. And so Barry flashed over and gripped his head still, “Stop it!” he could feel the blood pooling in Fischer’s hair. “Guys,” Barry addressed over the comms. “Fischer definitely gave himself a concussion and will need some medical attention.”

Fischer was rambling again, “My doctor doesn’t like me either. I hate my doctor. I _hate_ him. I told him about my gallbladder and did he do anything? Of course not. God, I just want to get my hands on him and just…” 

_“Bring him to the labs,”_ Caitlin answered. _“I’ll give him a sedative and do some tests to see what’s wrong. Then hopefully we can help him.”_

Barry got to work, flashed over and things went quickly from then on. 

It was two weeks, two weeks since Barry had the conversation with Snart, since he said yes to that ridiculous proposition.

The two weeks were good, he actually had dinner at Joe’s, he got along with Iris and he made it to work on time nearly everyday. Captain Singh seemed to be very unsure about the change, but he didn’t complain. Dinners might be a little weird sometimes, but he hoped no one had noticed. 

Two weeks of no need inside him, nothing burning, nothing tingling or buzzing. No need at all.

But Caitlin seemed… suspicious. Since when Barry entered the cortex to check on Fischer, out of the Flash suit, she leveled a stare at him: nose scrunched, narrowed eyes and lips pinched. Barry quickly averted his gaze under the lasers of her stare and turned to Cisco.

“So is Fischer up yet? Did we get the results back?’”

Caitlin answered instead, but maintained her stare, “The sedative won’t fully wear off until about an hour. And based on his brain scans, it’s not likely Bivolo affected him. Similar hormones, and the same parts of the brain were lit up as though he was - but this was deeper than that, it wasn’t through the optic nerve like Bivolo. So unless Raider’s gotten more powerful, or found a different way to inflict emotions, then it’s not him.”

Cisco spoke up, completely unaware of the tension, “And the light trick didn’t work when we first brought Fischer in, but he seemed to be calming down on his own.” 

“Did we call his family?” 

“They’re aware of the situation,” Caitlin said, finally looking away toward the med room. Barry followed her gaze. Fischer was still asleep with his head wrapped in bandages. “But we’ll keep him here overnight to monitor him, has anyone filed any charges?”

Barry shook his head, he had gone to the precinct after dropping Fischer off at STAR Labs. In part, because he wanted the police to know what was going on, and see if he needed to bring Fischer in after he was looked after. Partly because he wanted a change of clothes from his locker.

“No. Apparently the people he attacked didn’t think it would be the right thing to do. He has a really good reputation at his company, nobody thinks he would have done this without something happening to him.” 

Barry felt his phone buzz against his thigh. He took it out of his pocket and saw he had a text… From Blue. He’d still been texting Snart. And changed the settings on his phone to just show the ID instead of the text, since it probably wasn’t good for anyone to know what he’s messaging. Not to say there was anything salacious going on, but… you know. 

Sometimes he texts Snart about cases, sometimes about his day, with ever present snarkiness.

Once he finally gave in and moved everything into his new apartment he couldn’t help but feel… lonely. Despite spending more time with Iris, Joe, Wally, Cisco and Caitlin - when he sat alone, couldn’t fall asleep and had no one to talk to, he texted the one man who he knew wouldn’t judge him. It was a surprising change of pace. Something he had never expected. 

He opened his phone and looked at the text.

**_Blue:_ ** _Why would I have any idea what Bivolo is up to, I’m not his mother._

Barry smirked. He’d messaged Snart at the precinct about what happened, asked him if he knew whether Raider had a part in anything. 

**_Barry:_ ** _But you are the leader of the Rogues._

**_Blue:_ ** _Even if I did have information on his whereabouts and actions, why would I tell you? I’m not a snitch_

**_Barry:_ ** _An innocent man nearly bashed his head in and attacked his coworkers, you can make an exception_

**_Blue:_ ** _Well I have nothing to tell you. Work your own angles_

Barry was inclined to believe him, he put his phone back in his pocket. And Caitlin was staring at him again. And Cisco was gone, when did that happen?

“Where’d Cisco go?” he asked. He hadn’t been that enraptured in his phone, had he? 

“He just said he was going to eat lunch and work on a project. Were you not paying attention?” 

Shit. She sounded upset, why was she upset? What would she be upset about? Barry has been an upstanding citizen as far as she’s aware. He hasn’t stolen one wallet from the criminals he’s booked since the moment he and Snart did that… heist. In that warehouse. It still sounded out of place in Barry’s head. But then again, he and Snart have been texting like buds for practically two weeks. That’s weird. Barry is weird. Shut up, Barry.

“Oh…” he really needed to start answering texts by himself. He also needed to get out of this situation. He’d already eaten today. Caitlin knew that. 

Maybe he should get a coffee? Coffee sounds good. Anything to get away from Caitlin who has been waiting to get him alone for the past two weeks.

“I’m getting Jitters!” he said that way too loud. “Uh, just need some caffeine before Fischer wakes up, you know,” he put his hand up to the back of his neck, then stopped himself. Obvious tell. Get a hold of yourself, Barry. 

“I made coffee in the kitchen,” Caitlin said. “It’s from this morning, but still good. I’ll pour you a mug.”

Barry watched as she carefully walked out of the room. He was tempted to not follow, but that would probably be a dick move… So he reluctantly dragged his feet and trailed behind her. At the opposite of Flash speed, Turtle speed. Slow, slow, Barry. 

When he joined her in the STAR labs kitchen she already had two mugs of coffee on the counter for both of them. He looked at his coffee suspiciously, before picking it up. 

“Thanks, Caitlin,” he looked at the mug in his hands and briefly wondered whether it was poisoned before taking a sip. Huh. Made just how he liked it. She must be buttering him up for something. 

“So, Barry, I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while. But you’ve been fighting metas, getting called to crime scenes…”

Definitely buttering him. 

“…And since Cisco has been around we haven’t had time to talk about your recent… habits.” 

“Habits?” Maybe playing dumb would get her to leave him alone. He took several long sips, to prevent himself from talking. 

“Your kleptomania, Barry.”

He coughed on his coffee and gasped for breath before speaking, “Just going for it, huh.” 

“I find it best to be straightforward in this situations,” she held a file in her hand. Barry frowned at it, he didn’t even notice she had it. “You’ve been stealing wallets from criminals, and I ignored it. I didn’t see much harm.”

“Is that my file?” Barry snatched it from her hand and flipped through it at super speed. “Honestly, Caitlin. You _know_ I think that you having this is a violation of my privacy.” 

“I know, Barry,” she didn’t look guilty in the slightest. “But I am your doctor.” 

“But you’re not my therapist,” Barry shot back. “I’m fine. I know you didn’t liking me snatching people’s wallets, so I stopped! I don’t see why we need to talk about this.” Though Caitlin didn’t look guilty, Barry definitely felt guilty. He was lying again. He always ends up lying to his friends. But it’s true, he hasn’t felt the sense of pressure, so maybe he’s cured. 

“Do you know about escalating behavior?” she asked. 

“I assume it has to due with escalation. Of behavior.”

She continued on, “Kleptomania is a disorder characterized by compulsion to steal. You don’t fit all the criteria, recently you’ve taken things of value and usually under the guise of justice, which isn’t how the disorder typically functions… But it’s also clear from what I’ve read about you and observed, you can’t help yourself.”

“What does this have to do with anything?” he sounded too defensive. 

“I’m getting to that, Barry. You see, you’ve only been stealing wallets over the past couple months.”

“But I stopped! I just told you I stopped.”

“ _Yes_ , I know. But before that things were constantly disappearing from the cortex,” she looked closely at him. “I lost my favorite fountain pen. It was primarily pens, markers, office supplies. Then suddenly things of more importance. Cisco lost a couple of tools. There were a lot of little things that went missing around the cortex, I brushed it off…But then I checked the security footage and you know what I saw?”

Barry shook his head, but he knew the answer.

“I saw you. I saw you take them, and I didn’t care much because these weren’t things of value and I knew that your compulsion had to go somewhere. And then suddenly things stopped disappearing, and you started taking wallets. I also didn’t mind, because they were criminals. And now you’ve stopped taking wallets and I’m curious… What have you escalated to next?”

Barry didn’t even think she _knew_ about the pens, or the supplies or tools he’d been taking since he first came to STAR Labs. He hadn’t even considered it as part of the stealing, it was almost… Well, like she said. A compulsion. He’d come home and find a marker in his pocket and shrug, sometimes he barely even paid much attention to what he took. He did stop after he started taking wallets again, because he found a different way to scratch the itch.

Were heists his next scratch? Is that really what he was devolving to? 

“I…” he went to take another sip, but found all his coffee gone. “I started seeing someone,” he ventured. He wasn’t sure what his face looked like, but his heartbeat definitely went up a few notches. “Romantically.” He added for good measure, he didn’t want her contacting any of his past therapists.

Caitlin’s expression changed, her face smoothed over and she sighed in relief, “Really?” she smiled and ran a hand through her hair. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

She nodded her head, “Coping mechanisms… relationships tend to help. I’m sorry I ambushed you like that. Who is it? Do I know them?” she widened her eyes and leaned over conspiratorially, “Is it Iris?”

“It’s not Iris,” a pit formed in the bottom of his stomach. “Uh, no, you don’t know them.”

“Is it who you’ve been texting?”

Barry would’ve spit out his coffee if he still had any. “Yeah,” Why the hell would he say that? Was he getting better at lying? He was definitely getting better at lying, and it gave him a bad taste in his mouth. “We met at Jitters.” Fuck.

Caitlin smiled giddily, and Barry couldn’t help but smile back, girls always adored a good love story. But he was literally talking about Snart, who he still barely knew apart from taking pictures of angry cats and texting ‘that’s you.’… To Captain Cold. What has his life come to?

“What’s her name?” Caitlin seemed relaxed. Considerably less tense than before, and Barry almost didn’t feel bad about lying. Almost. 

“I call him Blue.”

“Him?” she raised an eyebrow. “But you’re not gay,” she cringed at herself. “Sorry, that was rude. You must be bisexual.”

“It’s fine,” he chuckled. “You’ve only know me to date women, it’s understandable.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I wasn’t hiding it, it just never came up,” Barry shrugged and Caitlin nodded.

“Well he must be good for you then, if he helps with the kleptomania.”

There was more truth to that than Caitlin realized. Save for the romance and meeting at Jitters, he was ‘seeing’ Snart, and Snart was helping him with the kleptomania. He did call Snart Blue on his phone. There was a lot more truth than lies. Maybe that’s why his hands steadied, his heartbeat went to his normal rate and his shoulders began to relax. It was more truth than lies. In fact, very deeply rooted in the truth.

It helped the guilt, because he knew if he were to ever tell them everything about this it would hurt them more than it would hurt him. 

“He does,” Barry nodded. “He really does.”

“Do I get to meet him any time soon?” Caitlin ventured carefully. A smile played at the edge of her lips.

Barry laughed, “I think right now this is a more casual thing, it might not even work out.” Truth. Barry told himself. Just say the truth, a skewed version of it, but the truth nonetheless. “We’ve only had two dates? And they weren’t really dates.”

“Well, whatever helps you, then I support it. By the way,” Caitlin raised an eyebrow. “My fountain pen?”

Barry felt a blush creep up his cheeks, “Yeah. I can try and find it for you. What did it look like?”

“Black ink, aurora brand, emerald cover with a gold lining.”

“Oh, so it was shiny?” Barry asked.

“Around the edges? Definitely.”

Barry chuckled, “No wonder I took it. Sorry, I’ll go search for it when I get back to my apartment today… I finally made the plunge and took everything from Joe’s house and moved it in.”

Caitlin seemed like she was about to say something before a loud bang and groan startled her.

Barry sped away and back, “It’s Fischer. He’s waking up. I thought you said it would take an hour? It’s only been fifteen minutes.”

“There’s no way he’s awake. Are you sure he’s not having a nightmare?”

“No, the guy is definitely waking up,” Barry didn’t waste anytime and flashed Caitlin over, changing back into his Flash suit during the process.

She did not look at all non-plussed by the super speed and got to work, she flashed a light in Fischer’s eyes and asked her usual questions, “How are you feeling?”

Barry immediately became on edge, “Caitlin, maybe you should stay back. The guy was just screaming his head off a little while ago.” 

“Oh god, my _head,_ ” the man groaned. “Oh my god, what did I do?” he did not have the crazed look anymore and Barry relaxed a bit. Fischer made the move to sit up but Caitlin pushed him back down.

“You have a concussion, I recommend you stay the night for observation,” Caitlin said. “Do you remember what happened?”

“I remember being really angry,” Fischer’s eyes suddenly began to well up with tears. “Oh god, the things I said to Cheryl. Oh my god, I was _so_ angry. Why did I say those things?” 

“We’re trying to figure that out ourselves,” Barry answered. “According to your coworkers you came into work not acting like yourself, and then you startled yelling and making a scene - you attempted to attack a few people, and me.”

Fischer was crying now. “I remember doing that. But - I don’t remember getting to the office. None of it, I swear. I have no idea why I’d act that way. I love my wife, I love my coworkers.”

“But did you mean what you said?” Barry was reminded of Bivolo, how he took emotions that were already there and just turned the knob up a thousand fold. “We won’t judge you if you did.”

“I-” Fischer sniffled. “I mean, everything I said… about my wife…” he gritted his teeth. “Cheating on me. That happened. Cheryl doesn’t remember much about me, and my coworkers- well, I haven’t been promoted once. But that doesn’t mean I would ever hurt somebody because of it! I value my work, I want to give a good example to my children.” 

Caitlin spoke up, “You said you don’t remember heading to the office. Could you explain a little more about that?”

“I remember getting ready, sitting in my car, and then after that everything is blank until I started… acting not like myself.”

Barry furrowed his brow, “Is there anybody who’d like to hurt you or someone in your office? Or would want to ruin your reputation? Anybody suspicious around, recently?” 

“Um,” Fischer’s entire body language tensed and he clammed up. “No, nobody.”

Barry exchanged a look with Caitlin. Fischer was lying and they both knew it.

“You have to remember Fischer that we’re here to help you,” Barry explained. “Not only would telling us whatever you’re hiding help you, but your family, as well.”

“This has nothing to do with my family!” A brief flicker of the wrath Barry had seen in him before flared. “Nothing at all!”

“So there is something?” Caitlin ventured.

Fischer sighed, “Please don’t tell my wife.”

“We won’t,” Barry promised.

“I took out a few loans with some shady people,” Fischer brought a hand up to his face and rubbed his eyes. “Payday loans. You have to understand we needed to pay our rent, and I couldn’t let my family live out on the street.”

“I’m assuming you didn’t pay it back.”

“No, I couldn’t! I thought I was going to get my raise, and it fell through. I begged them to let me extend it, but they told me I had to pay it back… at 600 hundred percent interest.” 

Barry’s eyes widened, “How much money do you owe them?”

“My rent is 500 dollars, and I took out loans for ten months of rent.”

Caitlin did the math, “So your loans totaled 3,000 dollars but because of the interest rates you owe 30,000 now.” 

Fischer put his face in his hands, “We’re in crushing debt. I can’t afford that. A few men shook me down a couple months ago, but it’s not like I had any money to lose.”

“So you think that they decided to get payback by whammying you?” Barry didn’t think it sounded likely. Loan sharks want money, there’s no point in getting a guy out of a job and ruining his reputation for money. You’d rob the house or shake-up family members, not have him freak out at his place of work.

“Whammying?”

“Making you go all angry-crazy.”

“Nobody else has anything against me.”

It was that moment when Cisco walked in, takeout box in one hand, chopsticks in the other, halfway through eating a bite of noodles, “Uuuh, I thought he wasn’t supposed to be awake yet?”

“I thought so too,” Caitlin said. “But whatever caused his anger must have sped up his metabolism, as well. He burned off the meds in fifteen minutes.” 

While Caitlin got Cisco up to speed, Barry glanced at Fischer who was fumbling with his sheets and looked confused (which was a legitimate look for any normal person in STAR Labs). Barry could feel for the guy. Things weren’t going his way, he made a dumb decision that grew way out of proportion and now someone was after him.

“Who gave you the loan?” Barry asked him. 

He looked up, eyes wide, “They’re called Capital Vices Private Lenders.”

“Okay,” Barry nodded and turned to Caitlin and Cisco. “I’m going to talk to Joe about this, see if we can check the place out.”

“Sounds like a plan, dude. We’ll let you know if anything changes in the mean time.”

Barry smiled at Cisco, and gave one last nod to Caitlin before walking out of the med room and out of earshot to call Joe. He felt something rise up in him, a little tense feeling in his chest, but ignored it as he dialed.

He didn’t let Joe get a word in, “We’ve got to check out a private lender called Capital Vices.” 

Next thing Barry knew he was standing in front of a building, in a surprisingly nice part of the city. There were large glass doors and as he walked in a rush of cool air hit him and he could smell the lemon air freshener.

“Damn, this place is nicer than I thought it would be,” Joe said beside him as they ventured further into lobby.

“It looks like a bank,” Barry muttered. It really did, there was a receptionist at a front desk and a few yards behind her were several large glass booths that reminded Barry a bit too much of Iron Heights. 

The receptionist immediately broadened her smile and straightened her shoulders, “Welcome to Capital Vices Private Lenders. Do you have an appointment?”

Joe approached the desk with his badge, “I’m actually with the CCPD, we’re investigating a case and wanted to know if we could ask a few questions.”

Barry stood behind and observed the place. He looked up and around. A total of seven cameras he could see decorated the lobby, one focused on the door, another at the desk. The other five on each of the various lenders sitting in their glass boxes. If this place had enough money to have an airtight security system, a fancy lobby and plenty of employees- why did they bother to harass a middle class guy who took out a loan? 

Sure, 30,000 dollars was a lot of money. But it was a lot of money for Barry, for Joe, Cisco, Caitlin and Fischer… Not to a place like this that had money coming out of their asses. Why would they risk having police around their shady practice?

The receptionist’s smile got a bit tighter around the edges as she looked at Joe, “Is there any chance I could ask you what sort of case this is about?”

“I can’t give you many details of an ongoing investigation, but there is a man involved who took out a loan with Capital Vices and says that he was harassed by employees here,” Joe raised his eyes and gestured around. “From this establishment.” 

“Well we have a strict no harassment policy,” the receptionist dropped her smile. “I can assure you that none of our employees would be involved in something like that.”

Barry stepped forward and gave his best, sweet look. He glanced at the name plate at her desk, “I understand this may be a bit frustrating, Emily. But with these sort of things we have to explore every angle.”

Emily’s eyes lit up, “Well… Our branch manager is in today, would you like to speak with him?”

“Absolutely! That would be a great help.” 

She nodded and picked up a phone in front of her, “You’re very welcome. Why don’t you two sit down at the waiting area and I’ll give him a call. He should be out in a few moments. Would you like any coffee or tea?”

“Oh no, I’m fine,” Barry looked to Joe. “You?”

“I’m good too.”

They both walked over to a lush waiting area with a small grey couch, and magazines that Barry has never heard of like ‘Financial Advisor’ and ‘Lender Insider.’

“Good job back there, Barry. You were surprisingly smooth with the receptionist,” Joe gave his look. The one that said ‘I’m impressed, but also slightly suspicious of why you were so out of character.’

Barry almost felt bad about it. His charisma skills got considerably better as the itch approached and he knew that the growing need in his stomach was a bad sign, “Yeah I just figured calling her by her name would be good.”

“Well whatever you did, keep doing it in the future because it would be _way_ more helpful in these kind of investigations.”

They sat silently for a few moments and Barry had to fight himself from bringing out his phone and texting Snart about his day. About how he’s in this place, that he’s sure is loaded with money and would be a complicated but intriguing mark to hit… If this establishment was shady, he wondered if they’d even bring the cops into it. 

Barry stopped his train of thought. Planning a heist now… Even _considering_ telling Snart about this would be a bad idea. More than a bad idea, it would be an absolute train wreck. An idea of such bad proportions that he could ruin his life in the making of it. Barry had more self control than that. Or at least he could tell himself he had more self control than that.

“Barry you’ve been staring into space for a couple minutes now, you alright?” Joe had a magazine in his hand and he was looking at Barry in that concerned/suspicious way that he’d been getting from _everyone_ he cares about lately. 

“Yeah, just thinking.”

“About Wally?”

Now, Barry wasn’t expecting _that_. 

“What? No? Why would I be thinking about Wally?” The moment he asked the question, he realized it would be a reasonable thing for Joe to consider. He’d been acting weird around the entire West family. Zoom was gone. He’d made up with Iris. They’d been spending time together and he’d been going to the obligatory family dinners… but something wasn’t _quite_ right. 

Barry hoped Joe would come to the conclusion that his weird attitude had something to do with his father. Because in truth, this is all because of losing his father. Barry didn’t feel safe anywhere after Zoom, he didn’t feel like he could protect the people he cared about… Much less at family dinner.

“You’ve been acting off at the family dinners lately. And I know you moved out and I thought you might be uncomfortable with Wally staying there after you left.”

Barry felt like he just got smacked “So you think the reason that I’ve been acting off is because I’m jealous of Wally?”

Joe shook his head, “Not necessarily jealous. Just uncomfortable.” 

“So you assume that I’m self-absorbed and all of this jumping around me is because I can’t stand to see my ‘special’ place taken away as the prodigal son returns? Is that it?” 

When he didn’t get an immediate response he mustered on and settled his voice down into a harsh whisper.

“Or do you think it’s more likely that my father _just_ died, less than a year ago. Right after I got him back. And while everyone around me is celebrating the defeat of Zoom I might just be in grief? That maybe it takes more than a couple months for me to recover from that? Not only from his death, but the goddamn _hell_ I went through to defeat Zoom. I still have dreams about it. Do you know how it feels to have your back broken? To not feel your legs? Or to know that you are completely helpless to do anything?”

“Barry—“

“Okay, maybe you do know what it’s like to be helpless to forces around you. I’ll give you that. But Joe, everyone thinks it’s my responsibility to be the hero, to _constantly_ be the Flash and save the city. I never get to rest, or take a break. I barely treat my actual job like a job anymore. Sometimes it feels like I’m always the Flash and Barry died along with my father.” 

Barry stopped to take a deep breath and a tightness settled around his chest. He hadn’t meant to get that angry, in fact, he hadn’t even known he was feeling angry at all.

Joe must have seen the expression on his face change because his foster father sat forward and turned around his seated position to look at Barry, “I’m sorry. I should have known you were feeling that way. And I shouldn’t have assumed…”

“Joe it’s okay, I shouldn’t have blown up like that—”

“Gentleman?”

Barry was startled out of his apology and looked up to find a man in a suit standing over them. Oh yeah, they were in a public establishment. That’s a pretty important thing to remember when talking about his secret identity.

Joe was the first to stand up and Barry followed.

The man in the suit put his hands behind his back and gave each of them a smarmy smile, his black hair was slicked back and he was just that bit taller than Barry, and Barry found himself pulling himself to his full height to make up for the man’s presence. 

“I’m the branch manager, Jordan Harroway. Apologies for the wait, I was on an important phone call,” he put out one arm and gestured sideways toward the glass boxes. “Would you follow me?”

Instead of waiting for an answer Harroway began walking away toward where he gestured. Barry exchanged a _‘this guy’_ look with Joe as they both followed him. 

They were led around the glass booths and went through a small door, into a hallway that was considerably less fancy than the rest of the building. The carpeting was dingy, it smelt a bit like mothballs and the hallway was completely devoid of cameras, or at least any that Barry could see. 

They turned right into the first doorway, where they came back into the Land of the Rich and stepped into a rather large office, with a leather couch, whiskey set and an executive mahogany desk that probably cost more than Barry’s annual paycheck. 

But most interesting of all, there was a wall safe at the right side of the room. Very advanced. It looked like it was custom made, required a keypad input and something else. Eye sensor? Fingerprint? Barry wouldn’t put it past the guy to request both in his order. It was quite large, not as tall as Barry, but large enough that he could probably crouch inside when it was open, maybe even take a few steps depending on the depth of the vault. There was probably a lot of money in that vault, or at least something very expensive.

Harroway sat behind the desk and leaned back into his leather office chair, “So how can I help you too?”

Barry answered, “A man took out a loan at this lender and says he was harassed by employees here. Would you know anything about that?” he was still staring at the vault. What brand was it? Who built it? It wasn’t something that he recognized.

The branch manager must have noticed his staring, “I keep my personal take for the day in that vault. I know, I know. Keeping money in my own establishment you must be thinking— isn’t that dangerous? We actually have to keep a lot of it on site because of federal regulations. That vault there is the best there is, I had it personally made by Draycon Industries. It’s a beauty.” 

Barry pursed his lips and frowned. He really hated this guy.

Joe butted in, “If you could stay on topic and answer my colleague’s question that would be best.” 

Harroway sat up and answered, “Well, we don’t harass our customers but if they’re not paying their debts we have every right to call, email, go to their home and give an address of grievances. The higher the debt the more likely we are to confront the customer. The banks are not on our side so we have to hire private contractors for that work.”

“Sounds a lot like harassment to me,” Barry leaned forward. “Your interest rates are also _extremely_ high. Don’t you think that those are criminal?”

The manager raised an eyebrow, “What we do here is perfectly legal. The state law is clear. If some poor teenage mom or middle class wannabe-rich-man comes to get a loan for thousands of dollars and can’t repay it, who am I to stop them? It’s their responsibility to pay it back.”

“On 600 percent interest?”

“This is a business, not a charity.”

Barry had to the resist the urge to start arguing more. But sat back and looked to Joe. As if to say, can you handle this?

Joe understood, “These private contractors. Any chance you could give us their names? They might be involved.” 

“I’ll  go to print out a list,” Harroway got up and glanced at his watch. “I have a conference call scheduled in ten minutes. Once I get you that list you need to be out of here.”

“No problem at all,” Joe nodded as Harroway walked out of the room. 

Barry put his head back and closed his eyes. Took a deep breath, then stood up.

“Where are you going?” Joe asked.

“Nowhere, just pacing while we wait.”

“Do you want to talk about what happened out there?”

“Not right now, Joe,” Barry paced around the room and then walked along the right side. He eyed the safe and then stopped. He brought out his phone like he was looking at a message, opened the camera app and snapped a clear picture of the whole vault.

He looked at the photo for a moment and attached it to a message, typed out a text and hovered his finger over the send button. Was he really going to do this? Was he going to take the next step? Escalation. This is what Caitlin said would happen. Dammit. He can’t do this. He put his phone to his side, walked back to Joe and sat back down.

Harroway walked into the office, “Here’s your list. It won’t be of any help, anyway, we cycle the contractors on a daily basis. By the way, before you go,” he dug two cards out from his suit pocket and handed one to Joe, then Barry’s free hand.

“If you’re ever down on your luck and looking to get a loan, Capital Vices is available,” he gave a wide toothy smile, and looked down on both of them. “You look like you might need it.”

Barry gritted his teeth and pressed send. The reply was nearly instantaneous.

**_Barry:_ ** _Want to help me break into this safe?_

**_Blue:_ ** _I thought you’d never ask_


	3. Throw Away the Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes things don't go as expected.

Len could count on one hand how many moments of his life he would label the ‘greatest days.’ One, the day Lisa was born. Two, the day Lisa learned how to walk. Three, the day he found out the Flash’s identity. Four, the day he killed his father. And five — the day he found Barry Allen stealing his weight’s worth in shiny jewels. 

But today? Len was going to need a new hand. 

“So you’re telling me we need to rob a bank?” Len ventured, sitting on the back of the couch behind him. 

“Not a bank, a private lender,” Barry was dressed in a tight fitting maroon v-neck and navy blue skinny jeans that Len was currently appreciating. Specifically, the back view of Barry’s rounded ass as he crouched over Len’s work table. 

Len could think of a lot of other things they could be doing crouched over that work table. 

But this wasn’t the time for that. 

“Same thing,” he stood up and went around Barry, leaning into his space. 

He looked at the blueprints laid out on the table. The place Barry wanted to rob was close to a fortress, but not quite. Their security systems were high-tech and they had a security agency… But there were still very damning faults in their system. Even so, it wasn’t exactly an amateur’s job. Luckily, Captain Cold isn’t an amateur. 

“You know, I thought that the first place you’d choose would be something a little less difficult. Perhaps a private collection? Something that no one would miss?” 

Barry turned his head around to raise an eyebrow at Len, “Really? You think I’d choose something easy,” he grinned. “I’m the Flash.”

Len let himself chuckle in surprise. Sometimes he thinks he’s got Barry down, but then something more surprises him. Something _always_ surprises him when it comes to Barry Allen, “You sure are.”

After taking another good look at the blueprints, a niggling thought popped up in the back of his mind. Something wrong. He looked at Barry’s face, who didn’t look at all guilty. He’d texted Len just yesterday about breaking into the safe, and today he came and gave a better idea of exactly what he was targeting. In fact, it was Barry who obtained the blueprints and _not_ Len. Which was definitely something, because on his heists it was always _his_ job to get the blueprints.

Today was a Saturday, Barry didn’t have work scheduled. Apparently he wasn’t on Flash business today… But the fact he didn’t wait on this heist made Len a bit suspicious. 

“So tell me, Scarlet. Who pissed in your cheerios?” 

Barry sputtered and stood up to his full height, “Nobody. I just thought this was— Well, I mean this place is stealing from innocent people.”

“Those ‘innocent people’ chose to take out the loans themselves, we’re not Robin Hood.” 

The speedster furrowed his brow, “They let anybody. And I mean _anybody_ , take out loans on insanely high interest rates and when the clients obviously can’t pay it back they go to shake them down.”

Len shrugged, “Sounds like a legitimate business.”

“But it’s not!” Barry said with raised hands, “They specifically target people who are down on their luck and desperate for money! Young parents who need food for their children, people who need to keep a roof over their heads for their families, and any number of people who are at their darkest point and need money!”

Len observed Barry’s face. He was passionate sure, and this was definitely part of it, but, “Is this part of one of your little Flash investigations?” 

Barry blushed, but didn’t answer.

Len sighed. Damn. And he thought he could have some fun, too, “No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“No. I’m not doing this heist.” 

“Not doing the hei—” Barry paused dramatically. “Why?!”

“Because you should never do jobs that you’re close to. Much less an on-going investigation. Let me guess,” Len came closer to Barry, invading the younger man’s space like he’d done so many times before. “These people happen to be suspects in some weird meta crime, or normal crime, it’s not like the Flash is overly picky. You went over, you hated the business and the people who ran it. You were personally offended and you thought, ‘Hey, this is the place I can steal from to get back at and not feel guilty about.’ Is that right?”

Barry looked personally affronted and took a step back, “Maybe. But why does that matter? The lender isn’t even on our list of suspects anymore. And Caitlin is starting to think that the guy who went crazy just had a mental breakdown after a lot of stress. The metabolism thing was weird, sure, but right now the trail is cold and there haven’t been any other weird occurrences so maybe it was just a one-off.”

Barry was rambling and it took Len a while to catch up. Guy who went crazy?

“An innocent man nearly bashed his head in and attacked his coworkers,” Len echoed the text he had read from Barry yesterday. “That’s what this is about?”

Barry looked surprised, then put his hand in his pocket and took out his phone. He tapped on the screen a few times before chuckling, “I can’t believe you remembered the exact wording of the text I sent you.” 

Len shook his head, “I have an excellent memory.”

“A photographic memory?”

“Nearly eidetic. Anyways, it doesn’t matter,” Len was started to feel irritation bubble up. Barry was getting on his nerves. “I’m not doing this heist.”

“But—”

He put on his best Cold voice, “I’m not doing it. Now get out of my workshop before I make you leave.”

“I don’t want to leave,” Barry said like a stubborn child. He crossed his arms and shook his head.

Honestly, Len had no idea why the hell he ever agreed to go on a heist with _such_ an annoying kid, “Fine.” He reached to his side and fired up the cold gun. Barry frowned at it, not intimidated. Which just served to irritate Len even more. “I’ll give you to the count of three,” he aimed it at Barry.

“Seriously, Cold? We’re doing this now?”

“One.”

“Come on, you won’t actually shoot me point blank.”

“Two,” his finger went over the trigger.

“Stop it!”

“Thr—” and Barry was gone. Thank god. He was ready to shoot, but honestly if the speedster hadn’t moved he may have given him a little leeway, made it so his aim was a bit off. He put his arm down and use his free hand to rub his eyes. 

He was so excited just a minute ago, too. He needed a drink. 

Len walked around his work table and toward the small kitchen within his safe house. He took the only bottle of whiskey he had and a small glass. He poured himself a finger, then shrugged and poured himself two more. He took a small sip and hissed as the alcohol burned his throat. He didn’t even enjoy whiskey. Lisa had left the bottle here the last time she was hanging around and didn’t bother to bring it back with her. 

He wasn’t a hard liquor sort of guy. He enjoyed red wine and a well-made sangria. But he was never going to let anyone close to him know that… He’d never hear the end of it. Best to leave his bottles of pinot noir for special occasions. By himself. 

He could go for some wine right about now.

Len wandered around with the glass in his hand for a while before finding himself back at the work table. He stared at the blueprints. The more he looked, the more the job seemed especially interesting. It could conceivably be a one-man job. It would be difficult, sure, but not impossible. Especially if he made his only goal the vault inside the office, instead of all the other money hidden around the establishment. 

The cameras… he knew how to disable the system they were working on. A brief blink in the screen shouldn’t be _too_ suspicious to the guard watching the cameras. And there was only one guard who made his rounds inside and around the premises before switching off. Len could get in when he goes out or has a chat with the guard inside the camera room… Then rush toward the hallway.

The hallway that wasn’t remodeled. No cameras there, it would be easy to disable what he could outside the office before heading inside and getting a look in the safe. 

Really, it was the safe that made things difficult. Draycon Industries made amazing safes. And their algorithms change for each individual vault. Not to mention that he still had no idea whether the small vault needed an eye or fingerprint to activate. 

He brought out his phone and looked back on the text Barry sent, carefully observing the vault. Maybe he could send the picture to a few of his contacts, see if they know how to break— 

Wait. Len looked down at his whiskey glass, which was empty. It was also probably a bad idea to be planning a heist that he just threw Barry off of for being ‘too involved.’ Sure, Len wasn’t involved and he could probably pull the heist off. But at what cost? There was a high probability Barry would find out about it and then he might never trust Len enough to come to him again with heist ideas. 

Then he can’t get his blackmail. Or the thrill of seeing Barry Allen pull off something big. He felt like he was in a pickle. And it didn’t help that the alcohol was beginning to hit him, which most likely meant he wasn’t exactly in the state of mind to be making these decisions.

Maybe he should call Barry back. No, that’s a bad idea. He sighed and set down the glass on the table before heading over to the couch, laying down and falling into a deep sleep. 

* * *

Something was hitting his face.

“Lenny, Lenny, Leonard. Lenny. Len,” he opened his eyes to find his sister standing over him. Who was not-so-gently pushing his face around. “You’ve been planning a heist without me?” 

“What?” his brain was just beginning to come back online.

“A heist!” Lisa shoved him into the sofa he was laying on and he groaned. “You’ve been planning a heist without me! With,” she brought up her phone and looked at it. “Magpie! Some person named Magpie!!”

“Magpie?” He immediately sat up, wide awake. He got a closer look at the phone in Lisa’s hand. Not her phone, _his_ phone. He snatched it away. “Don’t go looking through my things.” 

His phone was still locked. Good. He hadn’t deleted the messages from Barry just yet. There were a few messages on his lock screen.

**_Magpie:_ ** _I can’t believe you did that._

**_Lisa:_ ** _I’m coming over to your bat cave in 20. Be decent._

**_Magpie:_ ** _Seriously. What. The. Hell?_

**_Magpie:_ ** _I want to be on that heist. When you stop being such an asshole and change your mind, let me know._

“Oh, don’t be a jerk, Lenny,” Lisa whined. “I noticed the messages and took a peek. It’s not like I unlocked the phone.”

“Like you would know the password.”

She leveled a look at him.

He groaned, “You just ruined my nap. It was peaceful.”

“Nothing is peaceful with you. Who’s Magpie?”

“The mark I was telling you about a few weeks ago,” Len stood up and stretched out his back. “He came to me about a job, but was too personally involved,” he waved a hand. “It’s not any of your concern. I won’t be doing the heist, anyway.”

Lisa raised an eyebrow, “So this mark of yours finally gives you what you want and you stop because. What? He was too personally involved?” She scoffed. “That’s ridiculous and you know it. You brought me on a job to steal all of my exes furniture and now you’re getting picky about jobs?”

His sister had a point. But Barry was different, “This mark is different. I can’t let anything go wrong. Not to mention your ex would never report anything to the police.” 

Lisa ignored him and walked around the couch to the work table, “Well, if this place is a private lender. And a shady one, based on the little bit of research I did before you woke up…”

His sister was a pain the ass.

“…Then the chances of them reporting a theft to the police are slim to none.” 

“This has nothing to do with you Lise,” Len followed her around the couch and blocked her view of the work table. “Just let it go.”

“Let it go?” Lisa laughed. “Since when have I ever let your little crushes go?”

“Crush?”

“Yes. Crush. This,” she made air quotes. “”Mark" you’ve been talking about. Who is he? You smile when he texts you and that’s rare. Not to mention you went out to dinner with him.”

“How would you know that?”

“You wore your dinner jacket.”

“My dinner jacket?”

“The leather jacket you always put on when you’re about to go on a dinner date and want to look all cool and mysterious. You wore it that day I asked you about your mark and then left without letting me in on anything.”

His sister was too smart for her own good, “I don’t have a crush on him. That’s such a juvenile term.”

“But you think he’s hot.”

Len loved his sister, but this was getting too much, “Why do you care so much?”

“Because this guy obviously makes you happy, and you keep talking about him like you want to use him. But really, I just think you _want_ him,” she shrugged. “I’m a love guru. I love, love. And the fact you’ve been less grumpy lately is also really nice.”

Len ran a hand through his short hair. Lisa had a point. And he hated that she had a point. His phone buzzed in his hand. 

**_Magpie:_ ** _The case is cold. Unless something else happens we’re not investigating any further. Better?_

It was better. And Len knew he was being stubborn, but he also didn’t want to back down, “I made a decision, Lisa. Going back on what I said now would make me look weak.”

“So what? It’s not weak. It’s just a change of heart. And it’s good to look a little vulnerable sometimes.” 

Len rolled his eyes. He was starting to regret ever bringing up the proposition to Barry in the first place. Now that his sister knew what was going on there was no way she would let it go. He also was _not_ going to back down on his decision to kick Barry off the heist. He needed something to throw his sister off. 

“Fine, I’ll do the heist,” he will be doing the heist. Just on his own. Without Barry as a thorn in his side.

“Yay!” she put her hands on his shoulders. “I am _so_ glad. See? Was that so hard?”

“Yes.” 

“Ok!” Lisa did a spin and clapped her hands together. “So when will this heist be going down and when will I meet that boy of yours?” 

“You won’t be meeting him on this one,” Len answered. He paused before going on, choosing his words carefully. “This heist isn’t a three man job.”

“It could be a two man, one woman job,” Lisa pouted.

“You know what I mean, Lise.” 

“Fine, fine,” she waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll get going so you can make up with your man. But you _better_ include me in any future heists with the guy, or I _will_ get back at you.” 

“I don’t doubt it.”

She gave a mock salute and strutted away, and out of his workshop.

Well. It looked like he will be doing the heist after all. He took out his phone and dialed a number, it rang a few times before the person on the other line answered. He didn’t give them time to greet him.

“I have a photo of a small vault. Think you can tell me how to break in?”

* * *

His source was a fountain of information. The safe did not have an eye sensor, which would have been the hardest part to hack, but it did have a fingerprint scanner. He could take his chances and lift a finger print from something in the office, put it on a wax coating and see if it matched — but then the remote alarm on the vault would be sure to go off. The keypad will also allow three missed codes before locking indefinitely and setting off the remote alarm.

It gave Len a rush. He was tempted to set off the remote alarm and call the company number while there. Tell them that he accidentally put the code in three times and forgot the combination, some wordplay with the company, give them the serial number of the safe and voila — open. He’s used that a couple times in the past, and was surprised by how much it worked. Mostly because the company didn’t expect him to have the serial number on him, the name of the owner, the name of their first pet or childhood street name. 

But that was a big risk. Especially if the safe was built by Draycon. Within recent years they’ve been upping their game more and more… Which Len proudly knows is the result of his own heists. AmTrek Industries broke off from the Draycon keypad once Captain Cold had cracked it over and over again… And the one time Barry (or Sam) cracked it. But that didn’t count. 

And so Draycon made their own company, changed their algorithms, updated their tech and got into the custom build industry. 

As if that could stop him. 

A couple hours of reading up on their new equipment and he was 97 percent sure he could break the keypad in thirty seconds. Absolutely sure he could break in at three minutes. The fingerprint reader was more difficult, he didn’t want to risk lifting the wrong print and having the alarm go off. In the past he may have kidnapped Jordan Harroway for his prints, even cut off his fingers if he was feeling frosty, but that would arise too much attention. 

But there _was_ a wire connected to the keypad, which accessed the vault. If he could open up the keypad and short the wire inside, the right wire. Which was, he glanced at the schematics in front of him.. Which was the green wire. Then he should be good to go. All he needed was a magnet to accomplish that. 

It has been one full day and he already had a plan to break in, down to the minute. A one-man job that he wanted to do as soon as possible.

Tomorrow night. 

* * *

Tonight’s the night.

He wasn’t wearing his full cold gear today, because he wasn’t planning on using the cold gun. That didn’t mean he doesn’t have it on him. It was still safely strapped to his thigh, emitting that cool feeling that he found comforts him. But he wasn’t wearing the parka, and his goggles were in his back pocket. Instead, he opted to wear his black sweater and black cargo pants.

The Captain Cold outfit was fun for the times he fights the Flash… But the last thing he wanted for this heist was to arise any unwanted attention. If Barry found him here, doing the heist without him, he would be pissed. And he could admit to himself that his usual outfit is just a little ridiculous. But Len grew up on comics, he liked the flare.

A bag was folded up in one of his cargo pockets, which he could use to take out whatever he wanted from the vault. Which was likely cash, and he was only interested in cash right now. He could launder it through Saint and Sinners easily. 

Right now, he was driving the flower van. The navy blue one with a big sticker on the side that said, ‘Lisa’s Flowers.’ He chided his sister for that move, but they never used it on heists she was involved in so he decided to keep it and let her have her fun. 

He drove around the back and parked a block away. He had already put a long-coat and baseball cap taped to the trashcan to change his look a bit once he made his exit. He was planning to get in and out without sounding any alarms, and stealing the money so that nobody would be wise to what happened until Jordan Harroway opened the vault the next day. But just in case, it was always best to make it so your description was different.

If the guards spotted him they’d be looking for a man in a dark sweater, not a brown long-coat and red baseball cap. 

But if the alarms went off… That was a different story. He didn’t expect the business to report the theft after the fact, but Draycon Industries had an uplink to CCPD if the alarm is set off. And CCPD was only five minutes away. On a slow night like this, they may get to Capital Vices much faster than usual. 

So he could _not_ set off the alarm. 

He parked the van, got out, and looked around to make sure that he was in a legal parking space. Len was amazed how often some heists went awry because the damn driver parked in an illegal zone. That was early on in his criminal career, when he’d run out of the crime scene and find out the goddamn car was towed. He never made that mistake again. 

It was a short walk to the business, and he was around the corner. The guard was pacing back and forth in front, making his rounds. At this point, Len would usually get Lisa or someone else for a distraction, but this heist was somewhat of an impatient decision. He didn’t bother to bring anyone else along. 

Len glanced at his watch, it was 12:09a.m. This particular security contractor switched off their guards at 12:10, and just like clockwork he saw the guard glance at his own watch and walk off. He had eight minutes and thirty seconds before the other guard would be back on their rounds. He ran over to the front and got out his lock picking kit, it was a traditional lock and not very difficult to pick. 

But before he headed in, he reached in his pocket and set off a short range EMP blast. That should keep the cameras black for a minute, leaving him plenty of time to run to the hallway devoid of cameras and then set the cameras in the office on loop. 

He did his work, opened the front, locked it back and sprinted across the room toward the appropriate hallway. Len took another few seconds to glance around and make sure none of the cameras were lit up. It was too dark for him to see clearly at this point, so he dug into his back pocket and put on a pair of lightweight night vision goggles. He relaxed in the hallway, it was a black-spot. And very conveniently held the heart of the camera system for the office along the wall.

He put out his gloved hand and gave a few light knocks before he heard a hollow spot, he looked closely and saw a square line along the wall. He followed his hands along it and cracked it open to reveal the system… Len took a good look at the part he needed to change and then paused — his hands hovering over the system.

It was already on loop. 

What?

He slowly closed it and quietly made his way back to the office door. Which was locked. So someone looped the cameras in the office and locked the door behind them… He crouched low and picked it, slowly creeping the door open. He had his right hand over his cold gun, ready to aim and fire at a moments notice. But when he slipped inside, no one was there.

His heart went up a few notches without his permission, his muscles tensed and he felt the hair on his arms stand up. No one was here. But the cameras were on loop.

Something was very wrong and he didn’t feel right. First off, he should have planned considerably longer for this job. Sure, he was an impatient man but not for something like this. He’s done one-day jobs before but those were not one-man missions. He didn’t feel right. 

Len glanced at the vault, still closed. It looked untouched. He can’t do this job. It’s gone bad. But before he could back out a ghostly figure erupted from out of the safe. Len startled and shouted, falling back. What the _fuck_ is that? He quickly got out his cold gun and aimed, but something overly bright came into view of his night vision and blurred his line of sight.

He ripped the goggles off and aimed again, his eyes focusing. 

The figure stepped back, “Don’t shoot me!” the figure said in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Barry Allen.

Len groaned, steadying himself and standing back up. He grabbed his goggles and shoved them in his pocket, but his gun was still up. His eyes were finally focused. And yes, standing in front of him in all black and a small backpack was Bartholomew Henry Allen carrying a flashlight in one hand and a huge bag in the other.

“Barry,” he growled. Trying to steady his voice and nerves. “What the hell are you doing here?” he put his gun down and holstered it. 

"What the hell am _I_ doing here? I’m doing the heist,” Barry said in a very whiny, whispered voice. “What the hell are _you_ doing here!” 

Len frowned, his brain still catching up with whatever the hell was going on here (something happening much more often now that the Flash was in his life.) He hated not being in the loop. He looked at the vault, still unopened. He looked at Barry, holding what was definitely a bag full of cash. It didn’t compute. 

“How the hell did you do that?” he asked without thinking.

“Do what?” Barry still looked very irritated.

Len gestured to the bag, then the vault. Then the bag again. 

“Oh yeah, it’s called phasing.”

“Phasing?” 

What? 

“Basically I can phase through objects if I vibrate fast enough and at the same frequency,” Barry shook his head. “Have I never done that around you?”

Len wasn’t even mad anymore. Just amazed, “So you can walk through **_walls_**?”

Barry looked like he was holding back a smile, “Uh, yeah.”

“That’s remarkable.” 

Barry blushed bright scarlet before shaking his head, “Stop distracting me. So you did the heist without me.”

“And you did the heist without me,” Len shifted into his drawl. “Seems like we both went behind each other’s backs.” 

Barry shifted foot to foot. He looked like a kicked puppy. 

Len sighed and gave the kid a break, “Would you like to finish it together?”

“What? And you get half the profits?” Barry scoffed. “No way. I did all the work.”

“Are you seriously arguing about this, Barry?” Len looked at the bag again. It was a ratty white color and looked like it was about to rip open. “And is that a large pillow case?”

“It’s the only thing I had. I would’ve used my laundry bag, but today is laundry day and— Whatever. It doesn’t matter,” Barry frowned. “I’m not giving you the money.”

Len put his hand out, “Give me the bag.”

Barry shook his head and pulled back, “Absolutely not.”

“It’s barely holding up under the cash,” he fished his own black bag out from one of his pockets and opened it up. “This will hold it much better. And there’s a drawstring on this bag, so you don’t have to grip the top so hard… Hand over the pillow case.” 

Barry didn’t budge at first, but Len only stared harder. Then Barry groaned and gave Len the pillow case, which Len quickly poured out into his own sturdy bag, “Okay, let’s go.”

Barry stood back and wandered around.

“Let’s go, Barry!” Len tried not to shout. But this was getting tiring.

“Isn’t the guard’s next handoff in twenty minutes?” Barry held his hands out and wandered behind the desk in the office. He sat himself down in the chair, “Shouldn’t we wait until then?”

Len’s timing was already off because of this, he hadn’t planned on going through this hand off but the next one. He glanced at his watch and was frustrated that Barry was right, “Fine.”

He set the bag down, and stood to his full height with his arms crossed. He could wait. Len closed his eyes and let his mental clock count backwards from twenty minutes.

Apparently Barry didn’t have the same patience, “So what made you decide to do the heist tonight?”

“I wanted to.”

“Yeah, but your heists are usually planned for months. Something like this, a couple weeks at least. Why do this now?”

Why _did_ he do this now? The fact he didn’t have a straight answer frustrated him.

“Why did _you_?” Len threw back at him.

Barry furrowed his brow, paused for a long while, opened his mouth to answer and then closed it again.

“At a loss for words?”

“I don’t know,” Barry answered. “I don’t know why I did it. Jordan Harroway is a bastard and I wanted to get back at him.”

“There are a lot of bastards in this world, Barry. We can’t get back at all of them. Not to mention you’ve had your problem for a long time and haven’t exactly been doing heists in your free time,” Len raised an eyebrow. “I may have pushed you in the beginning, but you made this plunge yourself.”

“I did. I know I did. Did you know that some kleptomaniacs go through escalation of behavior?”

Len nodded, not thrown by the change of subject. He was getting used to it, “I’ve heard of it. Just like a thief who gets greedy and starts to make mistakes.”

“Were you ever that thief?” Barry asked. 

“No,” he leveled a look at Barry. “I need you to understand that I’m not a kleptomaniac. I’m an adrenaline junky, I’m a fan of the thrill and the money I get out of it. But none of this is pathological. I just enjoy my job.” 

“Unlike me,” Barry leaned back in the office chair and swiveled a bit back and forth while he spoke. “You know that therapists actually diagnosed me?”

Len shook his head, he hadn’t known that. He knew Barry had a problem, he knew that he had a growing need inside of him — just like Len did to a certain degree. But an official diagnosis? That hadn’t shown up in any of his prior research. 

Barry laughed, with a bitter note to it, “Caitlin started talking to me about escalation of behavior a couple days ago. My diagnosis was on my general health chart which just… So many HIPAA violations, but I’m not getting into that —anyways. They gave me this diagnosis when I was thirteen. Thirteen! And if I hadn’t been caught by Joe, I doubt that I would’ve gotten that slap on the wrist.”

“So you _were_ caught… And here I hoped you were just that good.”

Barry stopped swiveling, “I became that good. Or at least enough-so that Joe didn’t notice anymore, I bet he doesn’t even remember the diagnosis.”

Len was getting more information than he intended from Barry and was logging it all away. So there was general health chart he could look at, he’d need to find it, put it in his usual files. He was also off-put by how many people apparently knew about Barry’s problem. If Detective West and Dr. Snow both knew about him, and then if Barry was put under a radar for a heist — there was a chance they would suspect him. 

Then again, Barry’s team had a nasty little habit of putting _way_ too much trust in the kid. Like sunshine came out of his ass. 

“You better hope he doesn’t remember,” Len remarked. “We don’t need the heat.”

Barry nodded, “I know.” 

Len watched silently as Barry started swiveling again. He observed him, the way that Barry seemed to glance at everything in the office like he wanted it. In fact, he could see Barry eyeing the nameplate on the desk in front of him.

Len smirked a bit as Barry grabbed the nameplate and stuffed it into his backpack, “That’s a badidea.”

“What’s a bad idea?” Barry asked, oblivious as ever. 

“Taking personalized trophies. If you have Jordan Harroway’s nameplate in your apartment, that’s like a smoking gun.”

Barry furrowed his brow, “I didn’t,” he reached behind him into his backpack and pulled the nameplate out. “Oh. I did take it.” He set it back down on the desk and put it in back in its proper position.

“You didn’t even notice?”

“Sometimes I don’t,” Barry shrugged. 

It was quiet for a few moments longer before Len heard police car sirens. He tensed, but didn’t get nervous yet, that didn’t necessarily mean anything. But as the sirens got closer he heard them stop, much to close.

Barry stood up, there was a small window with the shades closed and he walked toward it. Len quickly went by his side and grabbed his wrist, “Don’t look outside just yet,” he whispered. “We shouldn’t have set off any alarms.”

“I just heard cars park outside Snart, and the sirens are still on. That’s not normal,” Barry didn’t sound nervous. But very hesitant. 

Len crouched down and looked around the office. Then he spotted a light blinking. Right at the desk.

“ _Shit_ ,” Len said. 

Barry turned around, “What is it?”

Before he could answer a loud voice interrupted him, “ **We have you surrounded!** ” a fucking cop on a megaphone. Fuck. **“Come out with your hands up!”**

Throw away the plan. 

“You set off a silent alarm,” Len wasn’t giving their position away, he needed to be quiet. Barry was right by him. “It was on the desk.”

“The nameplate?”

“It’s a pressure sensor. I should have noticed it.” Len leaned in, and hissed in Barry’s ear, “I need you to take out the cops _right_ now.”

“I can’t do that,” Barry looked at him and shook his head. “If I start leaving a lightning trail they’ll know it’s the Flash.”

“It could be any speedster, Barry!” Len fought to keep his voice down, it was like the sirens outside got louder. “You need to get rid of them or we’ll blow your identity. I can escape from custody later if need be, but if they see your face then this deal of ours goes to shit. At least run away. Leave. I have the cold gun, it will be easy to fight them off."

“I can’t!” Barry clenched his fists and Len could see the gears working in his head. “If they have us surrounded like they said, I’m likely fast enough to incapacitate them, maybe even run us both away, but there’s no telling whether they’ll make the connection to the Flash. And I don’t know what you’ll do if I leave.” 

“Afraid I’ll kill a cop, Scarlet?” after all that’s happened, Barry didn’t trust him and Len understood that. “I don’t need the heat.”

**"Come out right now, or we will be forced to enter the premises."**

“We need to give ourselves up.”

“ _What?_ ” now it was Len’s turn to clench his fists. “Are you out of your fucking mind? I’d still prefer not to be captured, even though I’m capable of escaping from prison it takes a hell of a lot of planning. And I might have an open warrant for my father’s murder, but they have nothing else on me and I want it to stay that way.”

Barry grabbed his wrist, which Len looked down at curiously before matching Barry’s intense gaze, “I can vibrate, remember?”

“So you’re a sex toy? How does that help us, Barry?”

“You know how I vibrate my face? How I distort my voice? I’m not willing to speed, but pure vibration doesn’t give away my identity as the Flash, it just means I’m a meta. And the police department doesn’t have power dampeners yet,” Barry’s eyes flashed back and forth. Literally flashed, like his brain was working at the same degree of speed as he usually ran.

“They’ll still recognize your voice, or the Flash's voice” Len challenged.

“A higher frequency of speed,” Barry said nonsensically.

“What?”

“A higher frequency of speed! I typically vibrate my vocal chords at a lower rate, giving me an echo quality, but not changing my pitch of voice. But If I vibrate at a faster speed,” Barry grinned and then spoke in a high-pitched buzzing voice. “I’ll sound like Alvin and the Chipmunks.” 

Len couldn’t fight the small smile that brightened his face,“And you really think this will work? How will we escape from custody after? And you’ll have to vibrate your entire body, Scarlet. Fast enough so that they can only make out a blur.”

“Underestimating me, Leonard?”

Len paused at the use of his first name, “Pull this off and I'll never underestimate you again.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated! And they keep me writing.


End file.
